Planes, Trains, Automobiles, and a Good Set of Legs: Paris

Last Thursday was “Día de Andalucía” which meant an extra day off, giving all of us students a “puente” or extended break. For my group of friends and myself, this meant a trip to Paris. Most people would think that Paris would be just a hop away from Spain. For the cheap college student (myself) Paris was more like a hop, skip, jump, and 14 hours away. We left at 11:00 pm Wednesday night, taking a 6-hour bus-ride to Madrid. Once arriving in Madrid we had to take the train to get to the Airport, from where we took a 2-hour plane ride to Paris. Once arriving in Paris we took another train to get to the station closest to our hotel, and then walked the rest of the distance to our hotel in the pouring rain with all our luggage, arriving at our hotel at 1:30 in the afternoon. It is times like those that I wish I was rich and didn’t care about spending the money on an incredibly expensive flight from Sevilla and paying for taxis. But then again, if I was, what good stories would I be able to write about here?

Our hotel was an incredible improvement from our last hostel in Madrid, with a cute sitting and breakfast area, friendly staff, and most importantly clean rooms. We were all starving when we arrived and asked the owner for a suggestion for a good place to eat nearby and she suggested this local pizza place. Here, we ran into a first experience with a language barrier. We had hoped that if people didn’t speak English they would speak Spanish, but this was not that case. As we tried to understand what was being told to us about a special deal for buying pizzas to go, the entire restaurant was staring at us. It was a very uncomfortable experience. Never before have I traveled in a place where I haven’t known the dominant language, and I felt like a very ugly American. Traveling throughout Spain we had taken for granted our ability to communicate, and many times when in Paris we would start responding in Spanish only to realize that the language we have been honing for the last 2 months was absolutely useless to us (just as English is in Sevilla). It was a very odd experience and I give even more credit to any immigrant, I was ready to go back to a language I understood in 4 days time.

After eating our first real meal in 15 hours and taking a rest we headed out to the Eiffel Tower. Our initial plan had been to have dinner/lunch on the lawns near the Tower, but the strong winds, rain, and what my wussy Spanish body now calls cold temperatures prevented us from doing so. We were able to see the Tower once the rain stopped, but we all agreed that it is a rather hideous and almost frightening structure during the day. As we hung out by the river that evening, we were able to see it light up, transforming it completely. Later that night we went to the top of the Tower; it was an extraordinary experience with a magnificent view of the city, with the winds whipping around us. As we were watching the city, the bulbs on the Tower started blinking as the do every hour on the hour. We did the majority of our city watching from the 2nd level and from there headed to the 3rd and final level. I have to admit that I was a bit terrified as we headed up to the top; I just wanted the elevator to stop. You really do not realize how high up you are until you are riding to the top, seeing the city shrinking the higher up you are. Once we got our fair shares of sights and thrills, we headed back down to the 2nd level from where we hiked to the bottom to maximize our 11 euros and views.
The other days were spent at the Louvre, the Orsay Museum, the Arc de Triomphe, Sainte-Chapelle, Notre Dame Cathedral, Versailles, and just wandering around Paris. For me, the Louvre was nothing special, just crowded with an overrated painting you may know as the “Mona Lisa” (especially hilarious due to the fact that it is a tiny painting mounted in a glass case on a GIANT wall). Interesting fact about the “Mona Lisa”: for 3 years it was missing because some obsessed museum worker had it rolled up underneath his bed. I much preferred the Orsay Museum (thanks Dad for the recommendation) as the crowds were much smaller, the size much more doable, and the paintings better. The afternoon spent there was a great one. Versailles was another overrated sight for us, once again overrun with crowds. We were also surprised at both its lack of furniture (I have a good imagination but not that good of one) and its lack of descriptions in any other language besides French. The only thing they had written in another language were signs telling you not to do something. My favorite part of Versailles was the garden area, and I can just imagine how magical it is with everything in bloom and the fountains on high power.

Sainte-Chapelle and Notre Dame Cathedral were definite favorites. Sainte-Chapelle was a cathedral built to house the supposed relic of the “Crown of Thorns” and it has practically floor to ceiling stained glass windows, each section telling a story from the Bible. The cathedral was deceiving, because you enter on a plain floor that served as the church for commoners. To get to the main sight, you had to walk up a spiral staircase. I knew I was in for a treat when my friend Dorothy, who was walking in front of me, turned around with a look of amazement. Seconds later, I was stepping into a sun and color soaked room. It was absolutely amazing. It was fun to watch people’s faces as they entered the main church, everyone with the same dazzled expression. The Notre Dame was another great experience, upon entering and seeing the famous rose shaped stained glass windows I actually had goose bumps. Just as amazing was the climb up the bell towers in search of the Hunchback. Oddly enough, the walk up was not as horrible as we thought it would be (400 steps after 2 days of intense walking all across Paris, through airports, train and bus stations seemed very daunting) aside from the rancid smell in the staircase (blamed on the Hunchback), and the view was definitely worth it. Something that continues to amaze me as I cathedral jump from city-to-city and country-to-country is the amount of detail and the beauty of the buildings built so long ago with so little technology.

Another favorite part of the trip was window-shopping along Champs-Elysees, the main street in Paris with high-class stores that leads up to the Arc de Triomphe. The Arc de Triomphe meant another set of stairs, leading to another beautiful night view of Paris and a perfect sendoff as the Eiffel Tower started blinking again. We wound down the night eating crepes on Champs-Elysees, people watching and enjoying each other’s company. There could not have been a better way to wind down the trip.

Sunday, of course, meant another long-haul home. We were welcomed back to Sevilla with the ever-present catcalls, but even better the smell of orange blossoms. In the time we were in Paris, spring had begun in Sevilla. (Just so you all know, today it is 75 degrees). It felt good to be back to a country where I actually understood the language, although it was a little rough after 15 hours of travel to communicate with my Señora. I fell asleep that night with the smells of orange blossoms wafting into my room, welcoming me back.